


His Familiar

by Hitsugi_Zirkus



Series: His Familiar [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Holding Hands, M/M, Tumblr: makoharufestival, blind!Haruka, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hitsugi_Zirkus/pseuds/Hitsugi_Zirkus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were precious few things that could offer Haruka comfort in a world he couldn’t see. One of them was water. The other was the soft warmth of Makoto Tachibana’s hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Familiar

**Author's Note:**

> My second Free! MakoHaru fic, once entered in the tumblr festival. I took it upon myself to edit it, so it's a slightly different version. Please regard me kindly *bows*
> 
> I never realized how much I relied on “sight” descriptions until I took them from myself. Nevertheless, I seriously want to do a whole series for this. One day. One day… For now, this two-shot will have to suffice (I'll post part two soon enough).
> 
> Please enjoy!

Lately, there was something that really bothered Haruka.

Sunlight spilled into the classroom. Haruka could feel it wash over his left side, completely warm and driving him further into his thoughts. That was the consequence of having a window seat, but it wasn’t as if Haruka paid much attention to the lesson in the first place. His fingertips rested over the tiny bumps on the pages of his book, unmoving after realizing he had tuned out the teacher’s voice long ago, too lost in his own musings.

When the bell rang, Haruka having no clue how the lesson carried on, the classroom came alive with vibrant chatter and rustling bags as everyone maneuvered out. Automatically, his best friend (a title never agreed on in words so much as tiny gestures) Makoto was next to him. “Ready to go, Haru?”

"Mm." After putting his things away, Haruka got up, one hand wrapping the band of his walking stick around his wrist. The other reached out to feel for Makoto’s arm, sliding down for his hand. He felt Makoto tense and he stopped, settling for gripping the material over Makoto’s bicep. He heard the other exhale, announcing cheerfully that they were leaving.

Haruka had to keep from frowning. He heard the usual noise rush around him, sensed all the bodies around him moving. They walked off to the side, Makoto telling him like usual when they approached the front stairs. Haruka counted the fifteen steps and continued being led home by Makoto. All the time he wondered why and when Makoto stopped holding his hand.

To make it clear, Haruka never particularly considered being blind a bad thing - he hadn’t been able to see for so much of his life, that he didn’t miss sight all that much. At least, not as much as it had when he was younger. He was completely aloof about his condition now in comparison. It didn’t stop him from diving under the water, and that was the most important thing.

"Hey, you _did_ pay attention in class, didn’t you?" Haruka asked.

Makoto made a surprised sound. Haruka wondered if it was that weird when he was the one to start up their conversations. “Of course I did! One of us has to, and you’re always looking off into space, Haru-chan!”

"Makoto, I can’t ‘look’ into anything," Haruka said, waving his hand in front of his own eyes.

"You know what I mean, Haru-chan." From the lowered voice, it sounded like Makoto was pouting. Haruka long forgot what that looked like. He might’ve remembered it being cute. Makoto was grown now though. Maybe he looked utterly ridiculous and Haruka wouldn’t even know. Makoto’s voice and touch was all he had, and really he needed no further proof that Makoto was right there beside him. It would do.

Makoto told Haruka they were climbing the stairs to his house now. He knew it worried Makoto to death that he continued to live on his own at a house located at the top of a long case of stone stairs, but he could never bring himself to move out. Nagisa joked that the two of them should just get married so that Makoto could carry Haruka bridal style wherever they went, even in the bath. That made Makoto shout things like “Impossible!” or “You’re saying embarrassing things, Nagisa!”

But more than once, Haruka considered the possibility - if he was going to marry anyone, he’d rather it be Makoto. Not someone simply ‘like’ him though - Haruka never found comfort in anyone’s hand but Makoto’s. He refused others many times before, and if Makoto happened to not be around, he would just use his walking stick, which was a little more than a formality to have when he was indeed with his companion. Wherever the two went, Haruka was sure to be latched on to Makoto somehow. Mrs. Tachibana used to fondly say it was like Haruka was a little duckling. That always seemed funny and a little backwards to most people, because everyone knew it was Makoto who would insistently say, “Not over there, Haru!” or “Haru-chan, come hold on to me.”

It used to be so annoying. When did he miss something like holding Makoto’s hand? Why had he stopped? When he was alone at night, fresh out of the bath, he’d lie in bed, staring at his nothingness. Haruka was never an insecure person – he was too indifferent towards others to care for their opinions. But sometimes, just sometimes…

 _What if Makoto was tired of taking care of me like this_?

Makoto was only human after all, and a teenager to boot. Surely he needed his own space. Inside Haruka, his chest insisted Makoto wasn’t like that. It was in Makoto's nature to worry about others. Haruka may be blind, but he wasn’t stupid. Other than his family, he was the one Makoto fretted over and laughed with the most. Makoto cared about him.

It didn’t stop Haruka’s nightmares though, of reaching out, of hitting everything but the solid warmth of Makoto’s large hand.

“Ne, we’re here. Want me to come get you for dinner? We can go over the lesson then.”

“Mm. Okay.” Instead of getting out his key like always though, Haruka remained planted there. He was drifting off again, he knew; being carried off by the currents of his mind. And Haruka never fought a current; merely laid there in its pools, thinking.

 _You always used to hold my hand. You’d be the one to take it first, to lift me up from the water. But now I feel for you and your hand isn’t there. Why isn’t it there?_  Haruka was getting frustrated.

Apparently noticing that Haruka had yet to let go of his sleeve, Makoto asked, “Haru? Is something wrong?”

Haruka frowned, head faced forward, wanting to look up at Makoto but not exactly knowing  _where_  to look. He knew Makoto was taller, but never ever would he be able to meet his eyes and be able to look into them. Never before did he ever think that to be such a  _frustrating_  thing.

Why?

He heard Makoto shift, and his voice was more at Haruka’s level when he spoke. “Haru-chan?”

"Makoto…" Haruka moved his hand, weaving his fingers together with Makoto’s, his movements deliberately slow to feel every inch of warm skin. "Makoto, come here."

Makoto’s reaction was automatic. His fingers gave a twitch before freezing completely. The usually calm waters inside Haruka were beginning to stir angrily. “Haru, why aren’t you explaining anything?” He felt Makoto’s hand lay limp in his grip.

“Why aren’t you?” Haruka countered. He squeezed Makoto’s hand for purchase, knowing that always, he’d be able to pick up on Haruka’s silent cues. There were precious few things that could offer Haruka comfort in a world he couldn’t see. One of them was water. The other was the soft warmth of Makoto Tachibana’s hand. And he missed it more than a man in a desert missed water.

“But I don’t…” Makoto shut up with that bullshit instantly. But he wasn’t giving any indication that he was going to start talking. Haruka decided to take that as a cue to leave Makoto alone; he never liked pushing him. He let go of his hand and felt for his lock before being forced back.

For a fleeting second of panic, Haruka thought he fell. But then he realized that there was solidness pressed against his back, and a pair of strong arms were encircled around his shoulders and chest. “I’m sorry, Haru,” Makoto said, sounding desperate and pained. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was being selfish. I didn’t think it’d bother you, because… Because I thought  _I_  bothered you. And whenever I held your hand, I thought of that and…” Soft hair tickled against Haruka’s neck. “Because I’m happiest when I hold Haru-chan’s hand, but I didn’t want to force those feelings on you. I didn't want to overflow, not in front of you.”

Makoto’s breathing was closer. Haruka listened long enough to memorize its pattern before reaching out with his hands. His fingers felt out for Makoto’s, finding them, and nudging them apart so that Haruka could hold on to him. He sighed. “As always, you’re an idiot.”

“Huh?” Makoto shifted behind him.

Haruka held on tighter. “No, don’t move.”  _Like this. You’re going to keep holding me just like this._

He was pulled closer to Makoto’s chest, like his companion couldn’t even bring himself to refute that request, and he pressed his cheek against Makoto’s. It felt so warm, just like his hands. He must’ve been blushing. (It didn’t matter whether or not he could see it because in the end of course Makoto looked cute. Ridiculously cute.)

“Okay. Okay, I won’t stop holding Haru-chan’s hand ever again!”

 _You’re going to keep holding me like this until I’m tired of standing up. And then_ …

Haruka tried not to smile. He really did.

 _And then you’re going to carry me bridal style to my bath_. 


End file.
